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User blog:SIL3NC3D WHISP3RS/Triumph (a true EoT story)
distant sand shifted slowly as everlasting day scorched resilient scales, as I wandered far from forest and foliage. My pale white maw drooled whilst fantasising of flesh that oozed with blood and warmth. Fresh, my meal would be, heart still beating as I feasted, eyes slowly dimming as I ate my quarry alive. Of course, such a kill would be hard earned, but still, my teeth would slice it's neck and I would taste it's life seeping through gaps between tooth and tongue. It would taste of victory. The fevered daydream shuddered to a stop when a very real scent hit my nose. Eyes awakened and I saw a carcass in the distance, along with a fellow predator feasting. A jealous rage and hungry desperation fueled my thunderous footsteps, though I did not run. To run would mean a fight, one of which would not be necessary. My rival lifted his head from the hadrosaur corpse, and we stopped to study each other for a moment. My foe was a tarbosaurus, heavily built with a slender snout, ochre brow furrowed in thought. his hide was marked by cuts and claw marks. he was wounded, but not bleeding. my knife like teeth could change that. I screeched my challenge, muscles tense. he rumbled back, backing away slowly, not to leave the carcass, but to give some space between us, if either were to bite. I roared again, puffing up, to show how strong and healthy a specimen I was. his reply was equally ferocious, and we screeched for a long while, waiting for one to give up a chance of a meal. I think he knew that I had seen his wounds, and was sizing him up still, seeing if a fight was worth the risk, and doing the same. we roared and shrieked and snarled until our throats felt like they were bleeding, and then we fought. I believe it was the other who lunged first, though I could be wrong. soon we were locked in combat, fleeting and slashing with tooth and claw. I manoeuvred around, his bites rarely ever landing, as I snuck behind to tear at his back and flank. blood welled from both of our wounds. I must've hit an artery in the endless chase, for the tarbo's wounds were like cherry red waterfalls, pouring into the ground, staining the sand. He staggered, energy ebbing as the vertigo set in. he was dying. With a swift movement, I latched onto his throat. he snarled softly, small claws weakly grabbing at my chest, but I gripped harder, slicing through his soft flesh, and then he stopped. I bent over gently, and laid his now still bod on the shifting sands, I took a moment, out of respect, to stare at the two carcasses now mine. I tore into freshly killed flesh. I tasted his lifeblood seeping through the gaps between tooth and tongue and it tasted like victory. I thought of nothing while I ate, and all that filled me was a dull thrum, like war drums beating in my chest. triumph. Category:Blog posts